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Sign a Contract
I was into sadism & masochism, or as most people know it; S&M. And I was rather extreme. I exclusively played the role of the slave. Rape, torture, permanent physical damage, days without food. I didn't care. It went further and further. I even spent over a week in a guy’s basement under minimal circumstances, taking beatings and rapes several times a day. It sounds like hell for those who aren't into this, but believe me, I enjoyed every thrilling minute of it. Outside of this weird hobby, I’m actually a normal guy. I've been working in a coffee shop for years. I became an expert in covering up wounds so almost nobody knew about my extraordinary hobby, most people just saw me as an introvert shy guy, but a hard worker. I had many masters all whom I met from this dating site for S&M lovers. I usually met with them over the weekend to experience torture from those who were into being a slave master. I always had a conversation before the action started to clear out what we liked and how long I would stay. Well, it was after all, a role playing game. Many people sent me PM’s on my profile. I used to get over thirty messages a day, since not many people were willing to go as far as I did. I was browsing my messages as I was doing regularly, when a message popped up that caught my attention: Subject: Sign a contract Welcome to hell. I’ll give you your worst experience you can imagine. This is the cellar of misery. Not many survived. Sign a contract with me, Satan, lord of the darkness. The only one without a soul. Though this sounded terribly stupid, it caught my attention because it was totally different from all these people begging me to be their slave. I checked his profile and it was actually a pretty hot guy. His whole profile page was full of Satanist bullshit, which is not unusual in the S&M world. I was getting pretty excited. Assuming this was part of a role playing game, I sent him a message back. Subject: RE: Sign a contract Dear Mr. Satan, Please use me as your slave. I will do anything you say. I’m willing to sign a contract. He sent a message with only his address and a time to arrive. I couldn't wait to see what this guy would do to me. I could never know that this message would change my life drastically. It was a long week, since I was constantly thinking about the next weekend with this mysterious "Satan." The meeting time was 8:00 PM on Friday, at (I assumed) his house. I got in my car and drove to the given address, with my heart pumping in my chest constantly, looking at the remaining miles on my navigation system. Why was I so nervous? I did this almost every weekend, but I never was this nervous for just another S&M date. When I arrived at the location it didn't seem strange in any way. Just a normal house like mine. I dated so many people that I knew these kinds of houses regularly have cellars, and most S&M lovers use the cellars so normal visitors won’t be confronted with all this torture stuff. It sort of comforted me. There wasn't a bell, so I decided to knock on the wooden door. As soon as the door opened, I recognized the guy from the profile picture. “Ah, you must be James,” he said. “You were willing to sign the contract, right? I have all preparations done. Would you like to join me inside?” I was feeling a bit uneasy about this guy still doing the act, but went inside anyway. “So...” I started, trying to break the ice. “What are you into?” “Well, Mr. Snipes, it doesn't really matter what I’m into, because this night is all about your torture, pain and misery.” How the hell does he know my last name?! was the first thought that went through my mind. I never gave my last name to anyone in the scene to prevent anyone in my private life getting to know my secret hobby. Did he look it up? Only people at my work and my friends and family know my surname, so there’s no way he could… “Now," he continued, "Let’s not waste any more time, Mr. Snipes. Since you accepted my offer, we should get started right away. Please follow me.” There was no time to think; he didn't take any time to negotiate anything. Hell, I knew practically nothing about this guy. I followed him to a door, hoping he would act normal from now on, hoping we could get to know each other in his basement before we get to the action. My thoughts were interrupted again as soon as he opened the door. The putrid smell of shit, blood, and what smelled like dead animals, smacked me right in the face. And believe me, I’m used to some smelly basements, but this was so extreme I started choking right away. As soon as I regained my mind, "Satan" grabbed my arm as tight as you can imagine and looked me right in the eyes, with a deadly, devilish smile. “Welcome to Hell, Mr. Snipes.” This was the turning point. I struggled to get loose, but every move made his iron grip even stronger. We both didn't say a word, though he kept this insane smile while watching me struggle. I had no choice other than walking down the stairs. At the time, I couldn’t understand how this guy could be this strong. My mind changed to survival mode. I knew this was no good. I have never been in this kind of situation, but thought about the possibility for a long time, since I went S&M dating. Down the stairs, he took me into a completely dark, freezing cold room, and chained me to a chair. I still wasn’t able to fight back, since with every struggle, I only made it harder for myself. He gently strapped my mouth with duct tape. I gave in and just decided to see what his plan was, and looked for escaping possibilities in the meantime. I couldn't afford to lose my cool if I wanted to get out of this place. Whatever would happen, I had to think straight. Mr. Satan said nothing and walked away from me. I tried to count the steps he was walking to get an idea of the size of this room. He stopped walking after what I estimated was about fifteen feet. This cellar must be the size of the whole upper floor, or maybe even bigger. My thought process was interfered again by the words of Satan. “All right, James. As you may already suspected, you’re not alone.” My mind started running like mad again. I must remain calm and try to think of a way to talk my way out of here. What am I thinking? I can’t even talk with this fucking duct tape on my mouth. Fuck, there are more victims of him. This can’t possibly be like the Saw-movies. No, nobody is that crazy. I should be able to remain calm for hours, even days if necessary. Suddenly, the lights went on. Thinking straight was out of the question now. I tried to scream, which was impossible. It was my seventeen-year-old sister and my mother, chained to a chair just like me. They looked injured. From the injuries, I could tell they had been whipped and beaten. They were totally naked and covered in feces and blood. Behind them were two other men I'd never seen before. The worst thing was the fear in the eyes of my mother. I can never forget the fear of death she emitted. I still have nightmares every night, though it happened over two years ago. “Yes, Mr. Snipes! Enjoy the show!” he shouted like a maniac. He was no longer the calm guy from upstairs. He sounded insane; his voice peaked while laughing hysterically. It was the worst sound I ever heard. I tried to move desperately, but I got hit on the side of my head, probably with some kind of baseball bat from behind. There was another one behind me, fuck. When I looked straight ahead again, I saw the two men moved positions, each standing by one of my family members, holding pincers. Satan was still laughing like a mad man. “Go ahead, guys!” The two men both started ripping off the fingernails of my mother and sister. Each one of them caused Satan to laugh even harder and even more hysterical. I tried to close my eyes, but got beaten again by the guy behind me. I had no choice but to watch. My sister and mother were bleeding from their fingers, which had no nails on them anymore. The incredible fear of losing my sister and mother came to me, as soon as I saw the two men picking up big hammers. Again, I couldn't control myself and got hit again, this time so hard, it took a minute to get my consciousness back. When I was able to see again, I saw the two men hammering on the feet of my mother and sister. They used full power, breaking their feet probably to the point that they could never walk again. Satan started walking towards me. He looked at my face, obviously enjoying the amount of fear my face showed off. He stood behind me and started stroking me in a very sensual way. “I love you, James,” he said. “I know you love me, too, you little pig.” Of course, I did nothing, frozen solid in fear. “And now for the grand finale, Mr. Snipes. Let’s watch it. Together. You and me.” I expected a huge weapon or a gun, maybe even a bomb, but instead, the two men both took regular spoons out of their briefcases. This "grand finale" was the worst thing that ever happened to me. They started on my mother, both putting their spoons against her eyes. Moving slowly down her eyeballs, pushing as hard as they could. They took her eyeballs out like it was ice cream. In a few minutes, her eyeballs were lying in front of me as they started doing the same torture to my little sister. At this point, I knew they wouldn't survive and I was prepared to die with them. Both my sister and my mother didn't have any eyes left; they were bleeding from their fingers and empty sockets. They were still alive, but it was hopeless to think they were going to survive. Satan stopped rubbing me and said his final words. “Thank you for signing my contract.” He and his companions walked away in silence. I stayed there for one week before police arrived. Of course, my sister and mother didn't make it. I had to stare at their corpses all day. When the police arrived, I was brought to a hospital where I was kept for three weeks to recover from a brain concussion and dehydration. I got arrested afterward and told the police the exact story I’m telling you now. Of course, they didn’t believe me. I’m in a mental hospital, isolated from other people for a year and a half now. My condition is getting worse by the day. I developed a phobia for spoons; I'm afraid of being confronted with them. I spent my days sitting on my bed, reading books. I don’t read magazines or watch TV. I will probably get life in prison for the murder of my mother and sister. They haven’t found any evidence concerning the contact with Mr. Satan, nor did the webmasters of the dating site find the dating ad in their archives. If you ever encountered a dating ad like this... Please, Don’t respond to it. They know about you. Category:Mental Illness Category:Computers and Internet Category:Dismemberment Category:NSFW